The Kiss
by Rygelina
Summary: One-shot. Hayley is in a bad mood and demands an answer to a very specific question. Elijah answers in his own inimitable way, while being totally obnoxious. Fluffy, fluffy, fluffy.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters and situations of "The Originals". No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N:** Oh, no! The vicious, pink plot-bunnies strike again! They come bearing chocolates, but as soon as you relax your guard... WHAM! Instant fluffy romance fic. ;)

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They were giving her a wide berth – even the saintly Elijah.

Hayley knew the house was full of people, but the cowards all knew she was awake and had gone into hiding. She yanked on the sash of her robe and stomped angrily into the kitchen. She didn't know it, but despite her fit of pique, she had the dejected air of an abandoned puppy, ears drooping in melancholy and eyes brimming with hurt.

_Fine._ If they were all avoiding her, then no one was going to stop her from having ice-cream for breakfast. _And God help the person who c__omes__ between __me__ and that ice-cream._ So what if she had been a little... testy lately. Or a lot. It was her goddamned right as a pregnant woman, right?

She rifled through the freezer for the triple-chocolate-fudge, only to curl her lips in disgusted horror when she found it... right next to someone's stash of frozen plasma.

"Ewwwww..." she whispered, holding one of the plastic baggies up to the light in morbid fascination. _Kinda looks like frozen raspberry jam_, she thought, only to groan in frustration as she was immediately struck by an undeniable craving for raspberry jam.

She grabbed a jar from the fridge and liberally dolloped it on her bowl of ice-cream.

She flopped down on a chair at the table, morning sunlight streaming in through the window, and sighed. _Being pregnant really sucks sometimes_, she thought morosely and lifted the spoon. She put it down again as thoughts of Elijah rose unbidden in her brain, as they always did. Like being pregnant wasn't enough, he was the most frustrating man she had ever had the misfortune to meet.

_If he doesn't want me, then why can't he just bugger off?_Why couldn't he see that his hot-and-cold schtick was driving her completely up the wall? Maybe he didn't even realize it. God only knew he was too honorable to be doing it on purpose. She snorted at that. _Honorable_._ Yeah, right._

She resolutely pushed the depressing thoughts away and lifted her spoon again, only to see it freeze in mid-air, held securely in Elijah's strong grip. _Damn the man and his supernatural hearing. _Hayley growled and yanked the spoon out of his hand. Her mouth full of ice-cream and jam, she glared up at his shocked face – shocked, yes, but clearly also very amused.

"Did you just growl at me?" he asked, his voice astounded, but his eyes glittering with laughter.

She didn't answer, only growled at him again – longer and more menacing this time – when his hand once more inched towards the bowl. Holding up his hands in defeat, he backed away from the table. Still amused, she noted. But instead of getting pissed, she sniffed delicately and looked down into her ice-cream, trying to hide the tears that suddenly threatened to spill out of her eyes. She was not going to miss the mood-swings. _Man, being pregnant sucks._

He immediately crouched down next to her. "Hayley..."

His voice was soft and caring, hinting at the emotion she knew was there and that he refused to acknowledge._ Why does he always do this to me? _Suddenly she felt like punching that bitch Celeste right in the face.

"What's the matter, Hayley?"

Her depression disappeared as quickly as a snowflake in a firestorm. _Of all the inane..._ She jerked to her feet. Elijah backed away, looking a bit alarmed.

"What's the matter?" she parroted. "What's the matter!?" She fisted her hands, eyes blazing at him. "I'll tell you what's the matter!" To her utter surprise, and sheer horror, a sob spilled out of her throat – and with it the truth came tumbling out. "When are you ever going to kiss me!?" A single tear trickled down her face, and she wiped at it angrily.

His face was a study in mixed emotions, shock, affection and guilt warring for control of his sculpted features. A lick of anger – or was it desire? – flashed through his eyes like a flicker of flame. He took an abrupt step forward, and Hayley's breath caught in her throat. For a moment, he looked like he was indeed going to kiss her, right then and there, and she took a half-step forward, wanting nothing more than to throw herself in his arms.

Then he froze, once more regaining control, and a part of her wailed in pain at his easy rejection. She spun around, hiding her mortification, squeezing the spoon in her fingers until her knuckles turned white. She closed her eyes, and another tear trickled down her face.

"Hayley..." he sighed, the word barely a whisper. She felt his fingers close around her wrist, and he gently coaxed the spoon out of her death-grip. He was standing right beside her, rubbing the blood-flow back into her numb fingers, but she refused to look up. He wiped away the tears with the backs of his fingers, and her heart almost broke at the soft, almost hesitant, touch. Then his fingers curled under her chin, lifting her face up. She acquiesced, eyes brimming with glittering tears.

As soon as their eyes met, the world seemed to shift under her feet. She wobbled, head spinning with dizziness, as everything went dark and an entirely different room suddenly materialized around her. She was standing in an airy gazebo, an impossibly huge Louisiana-moon painting the surrounding bayou in a wash of pure silver. Candles were lit all around her, flickering in the warm, summer breeze, and a myriad of stars twinkled overhead.

_What the hell?_

Elijah was standing a few feet away, looking even more stunning than usual in an outfit that looked like it belonged in a museum. Hayley had never been one of those girls that drooled over mr Darcy, but even she had to admit that the combination of a superbly tailored coat, tight pants and snowy cravat was mouth-watering. She realized she was staring and shook herself. _Get a grip, woman._

He was taking in her appearance in a decidedly appreciative manner and she glanced down at herself. _Whoa!_ She wasn't pregnant anymore. _Wow, that feels weird._ She was wearing a strange dress too, with a ridiculously long skirt and stupid frills everywhere and – _Yikes!_ – a neckline like you wouldn't believe.

Her eyes widened when she saw the sheer expanse of decolletage. "Hey!" she burst out and gave him a pissed stare, hands on her hips. He feigned innocence, but grinned unrepentantly.

_And there it is. My greatest weakness._

"Where the hell am I?" she demanded as he took her hand in his, bowed gallantly over it and kissed it.

Elijah laughed softly at her huffy question, the sound dancing over her skin in an almost physical sensation. "You're in my head," he said.

"Uuuhh... Why?"

The question came out somewhat apprehensive, and his smile widened. "You asked me a question. I am simply attempting to answer it in an appropriate fashion."

"Huh?" Hayley wanted to hit herself at the uninspired, some might even say moronic, response.

He cocked his head and regarded her curiously, a challenging look in his eyes, his smile turning positively devilish. "Don't tell me you've forgotten the question?"

She frowned, quickly back-tracking their conversation in her head. Her eyes popped wide as she realized what he was talking about, her breath turning into a startled gasp.

"You mean..." she started breathlessly.

She was rudely interrupted as Elijah threw his arms around her, dipped her backwards – eliciting a startled squeal from her – and kissed her.

Properly.

Thoroughly.

Veeeery thoroughly.

Hayley sighed and wound her arms around his neck, eyes fluttering shut in sheer bliss.

When she opened her eyes again they were back in the kitchen, and once again she wobbled on her feet as the world returned to its normal axis. Hayley stared at Elijah, for once rendered completely speechless, her stomach still doing flip-flops from the freaking kiss of the century. _Even if it was all in his head. My head. Our... Uh...never mind._

"I believe that answers your question," he said and raised an eyebrow knowingly at her. She blushed, her face turning crimson. Then he walked out of the kitchen, looking unbelievably smug and very satisfied with himself.

She swayed against the counter, a breathless, slightly hysterical, giggle escaping from her lips. _Yep, __definitely__ worth wait__ing for__._ The bowl was still in her hand, and she lifted the spoon dreamily, her brain still somewhere else entirely.

She got a mouthful of granola.

_Damn the man!_

The End


End file.
